A COLLECTION OF SCARS

And sometimes he felt like
A collection of scars.

She argued that scars create
Stronger tissue.
He said
"Sometimes what doesn't kill us
Makes us crumble."

They sat in silence.

And sometimes he felt like
A collection of scars
Made up of all the
Rejections,
Bully punches,
Sneers,
Judgments,
And later on in Life,
Self-made traps;
Set to reinforce that he was powerless.

With all this garbage
Filling up the container
Of his insides,
So much else had
Slipped away.

How he longed,
Still to this very day,
For that beautiful girl in elementary school
To have kissed him.
For the chance to have lived his talent
Rather than suppressed before a prime time audience.
To have the GQ body
He thought all boys were handed out
As they became men.

How he longed
To love all the fault
He saw in himself.

After all,
Friends said he couldn't
"Just relax."
And it was painfully clear
That he was underperforming in life and
Pissing it all away.

And sometimes he felt like
A collection of scars.
Looking, searching, longing for a home.